


Of Gift Giving and Getting it Right

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Words are hard, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint wants to do something nice for Phil's birthday now that they're dating, but birthday celebrations aren't something Clint has a lot of experience with. Natasha just tells him not to do it in front of a hundred people, so she's not a whole lot of help. Well, maybe she is, but she doesn't know much about gift giving either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Gift Giving and Getting it Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlyKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/gifts).



“I want to celebrate Phil’s birthday,” Clint said as they sat eating dinner at the table in the cafeteria. “But I don’t want to make him angry.” He watches Natasha’s face closely because this is a question about emotions, and nothing she’ll say about emotions will ever be the whole of what she means. She’s about as good at words as Clint is, after all, and almost worse when those words involve people’s feelings.

Well, that’s not wholly true, Clint supposes as he sees her glance down at the baked chicken she’s eating. She’s very good at talking when she’s acting, working, spying. It’s real, honest-to-god talking with people she doesn’t want to kill that’s more difficult. Clint can relate. Which is why he doesn’t know what to do.

“Why would celebrating his birthday make him angry?” she asked, finally. She put another bite of chicken in her mouth and glanced back at Clint.

Clint shrugged and looked down at his own plate, contemplated his steak, and ignored it in favor of looking back at Natasha and hoping this came out the right way. Words, you know. “Well,” he tried, “You got angry the first time I tried celebrating your birthday. I got angry the first time Phil tried to do something for me. He might get angry. Maybe it’s a thing around here.”

Clint recalled Phil giving Clint a small box wrapped in purple paper on the first birthday after he and Phil started working together. Clint had stared at it for at least thirty seconds, looked up at Phil, and said, ‘What the fuck is this?’ When Phil replied, ‘Happy Birthday,’ Clint had stared at the box again and then said, ‘Why the hell would you get me a present?’ Phil had sighed, said, ‘Fine. Give it back,’ and stalked away muttering under his breath. Clint never did figure out what was in the box and Phil hadn’t even said Happy Birthday since. Maybe none of them were very good with words.

Now, though. Now he and Phil were trying the dating thing and Phil’s birthday was coming up.

“I doubt he’ll get angry if you do it right,” Natasha said, setting her fork down on her plate. After a beat she added, “Of course, other than mimicking what we see in movies and bad TV, you and I probably aren’t the best judge of how to do it right.”

That was true. Clint had tried to give her a cupcake with a candle in it and a gift of perfume the year she was made an agent, and she’d backed away from the cupcake and poured the perfume down the sink. Those were not trustworthy gifts, apparently.

“What if I just do something he likes?” Clint said. He’d been thinking about it for a few days. “I mean, I could just get him a new tie and a gift card to his coffee shop.”

Natasha cocked her head. “I didn’t know he had a coffee shop.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he has stock in it,” Clint sighed. “I just – he never talks about his own stuff, so I don’t really know how he feels about birthdays.”

“You should do it in private,” she said, and she looked him straight in the eye. “You gave me your gift here in the cafeteria, in front of a hundred people.”

“They weren’t watching, Nat,” he sighed.

“A hundred people, Clint. No one had ever given me a gift when I wasn’t on a mission and you did it awkwardly in front of a hundred people. I’m just saying I don’t recommend you do it again.”

She might have a point. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll give it to him in his office.”

Her slow blink was one he was very familiar with. It was synonymous with the word ‘idiot.’ “What?” he snapped. “His office is one of our favorite places. I kissed him for the first time in his office. Don’t tell Fury that.”

She sighed heavily. “Clint. You’re dating him. Don’t give it to him in his office. Take him on a date and give it to him.”

Oh. Right. Dating. “Where should I take him?” He tried.

“Oh my god.”

In the end, he decided not to take Phil anywhere. If he wanted to do this his own way, and in private, he was gonna do it his own very unique way. Phil is worth too much to Clint to mess it up over something like a birthday, and while Clint can’t put into words exactly what that means, he knows he’s gotta be careful with this. So he broke into Phil’s apartment when he knew Phil was stuck in an hours long meeting, and he set up a birthday present.

There’s dinner, of course, and Clint can’t cook to save his own life, so he has an order placed with the amazing Italian place only a few doors down from Phil’s apartment, and he tipped extra so they’d keep it warm until Clint came to get it. He’d told Phil to call when he was done with the meeting. So dinner was taken care of.

He put a dark navy tablecloth over Phil’s small, round kitchen table, and he bought a simple vase of yellow daisies and placed it on top. Clint doesn’t know much about flowers, but he has fond memories of golden fields lined with daisies filling his eyes as the circus caravans drove across Iowa, so, yeah. Daisies. He fought with himself over a candle, but decided not to because it might be too over-the-top.

He wasn’t fishing for sex – he just wanted Phil to relax and have something nice.

He cleaned Phil’s kitchen for him and placed a box wrapped in simple yellow wrapping paper with a blue bow on top of the breakfast bar. He had a bottle of Phil’s favorite wine in the refrigerator, and he set the table with Phil’s own dishes.

When he was done, he sank into Phil’s plush green couch and put on a baseball game.

Phil called a little later, and said, “I think I need to cancel tonight. I’m really, really tired and probably won’t be very good company.”

Clint’s stomach knotted, but he took a quick breath and replied, “I might’ve kind of broken into your place so I could bring you some dinner. If you want me to leave, though, I can.” He could be flexible. He suddenly figured his plan was probably stupid anyway, so he started putting the dishes away as he spoke.

“You brought me dinner?” Phil asked, and there’s something fond in his voice, like maybe this _wasn’t_ a stupid idea.

Clint loved how Phil could make him feel less stupid with a kind word. “Yeah. I thought – I don’t know. I just thought you might like it.”

“I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Stay.”

Clint hung up with a grin and ran down to the restaurant. Five minutes before Phil walked in, Clint put dinner out on the breakfast bar and adjusted the gift so it wouldn’t get spaghetti sauce on it. Then he stood awkwardly, because what the hell was he doing? He’d pissed Phil off over his own birthday, he’d never once noticed anyone helping Phil celebrate before, and he didn’t really know anything about birthdays at all.

After standing in the kitchen with his arms clenched across his chest for a couple minutes, he decided to pack up the flowers and tablecloth. Those were probably too much. But before he could get to the table, the door opened and Phil walked in.

He looked tired; his suit was honest-to-god rumpled, his face was drawn and a little too pale, and his eyes were lined and strained. He set his briefcase on the table in the foyer, and then he saw Clint and grinned. Clint reached for his jacket and pulled it off for him, and hung it on the coat rack.

Before he could turn around, Phil called out from the kitchen, “Clint, what did you do?”

His stomach sank. That wasn’t a pleased question. He ducked into the kitchen and looked at the table with a shrug. “Happy Birthday,” he said, and put as much reassurance into it as he could. He was in this now, so he might as well try to make it work. “I got dinner, and just a little gift. I wasn’t sure how you liked to celebrate.”

Phil stared at the food and the box caught his eye for a moment before he looked over to the tables and the flowers. He crossed his arms and stiffened a little.

Clint saw it, so he moved closer. “I was a shit when you tried to wish me happy birthday a couple years back, I know. But I’ve learned since then, and I feel different about you now, and I just wanted you to feel good because I’m sure as hell glad you were born and made it here with me, and I’m sorry if this is too mu-“

Phil cut him off with a kiss, and Clint felt Phi’s fingers run through his hair and down his cheek. Phil was warm and insistent and didn’t pull back until they both needed a breath. Phil put his hand on Clint’s chest. “Thanks,” he whispered. “It’s fantastic.”

Phil’s quiet smile looked like the sun, and Clint felt warmth rush through his whole body. He stepped back and grabbed the box. “I did something you might like,” he said, and pressed the box to Phil’s hand.

Phil chuckled, and tore the paper off the box and opened it. He swallowed, stared, and then looked up at Clint. “How did you – “ he stopped and pulled a chair out to sit down heavily.

Clint had wanted to do something actually special for Phil – not a tie or a gift card, really, but something special. So he’d swallowed his pride and gone to one of Phil’s best friends for help. He sat in Fury’s office and said that he wanted to give something to Phil to hang up in his office because as nice as Phil’s office was, its walls were pretty bare, and there was nothing personal there. He’d said that he didn’t really want to go digging too far into Phi’s personal life – which is why he and Nat had decided not to go full-on spy and find pieces of Phil’s past before SHIELD.

Fury had grinned, and asked Clint to give him two days to get what he had in mind.

Now, Phil pulled out two oak frames that would match his desk and stared.

“It’s your commendation for leadership that you got your first year as an agent, and your award for being top of your class as a rookie. I thought you could put it in your office. Show off a little,” Clint said. “I might’ve asked for some help with it,” he added.

“Nick?” Phil asked.

Clint nodded. “Do you like it?” He didn’t know why his nerves were singing right now, but they were. Gift-giving was kind of new to him.

Phil nodded. “Yes, thank you. This is, well,” he said, and looked back up at Clint. “No one’s done anything for my birthday since I was a kid,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, Nick and Maria and Jasper take me out for a drink sometimes, but we’re all pretty busy, and most birthdays get lost in missions. No one’s really – “ he said, and then he looked back down at the box. He didn’t look up as he said, “No one’s really gotten me a birthday present since my dad died when I was ten.”

The air in the room seemed to go still at Phil’s words, and Clint could hear the rough years in Phil’s voice. He reached over and pulled Phil into his arms, pulled him close, and pressed him to his shoulder. Phil clasped his arms around Clint’s waist tightly and simply held on for a good minute.

Clint whispered, “Happy Birthday, Phil.”

They stood quietly until Phil pulled back with a sheepish grin and undid the wristwatch he was wearing. Clint had loved that watch since Phil had gotten it, a silver banded chronograph watch that was tinted with the barest of purple. Phil handed it to him with a smile. “Happy Birthday, Clint.”

“What?”

“This is the present I got you a couple years ago. I thought since it was your birthday and you were always late to everything, a nice watch would be good. You. . . didn’t want it, so I gave it to myself.”

Clint banged his head against Phil’s shoulder and muttered, “I have about as much experience with birthday gifts as you do, Phil. I was a suspicious bastard. I’m sorry. It’s your watch, though. Not mine.”

Phil pulled Clint’s chin up and kissed him again. “I want you to have it. It’ll make me happy to see you wear it. Maybe we can practice on each other with the whole gift-giving thing.”

Clint nodded, leaned back and winked. “Okay, fair enough. Now. Dinner, and I have dessert, too.”

Clint hadn’t been fishing for sex with the dinner and set up, but apparently his gesture was enough. It turned out that birthday sex was an awesome gift.

For both of them.

 

 


End file.
